Seven
by BitterAngel116
Summary: Resident Identification #74837 Security Level: HIGH RISK Subject Status: MISSING Last seen in Breyton, Vermont, in the company of two Caucasian adult males, identified as Dean and Sam Winchester. Subject is unarmed, and to be considered extremely dangerous. Accomplices reported to be armed, and considered extremely dangerous. Orders: RETURN ALIVE :: Rated M :: A/U :: OC


**Resident Identification #74837 Security Level: HIGH RISK Subject Status: MISSING**

**Last seen in Breyton, Vermont, in the company of two Caucasian adult males, identified as Dean and Sam Winchester. Subject is unarmed, and to be considered extremely dangerous. Accomplices reported to be armed, and considered extremely dangerous. Orders: RETURN ALIVE :: Rated M for violence, language, and adult situations. **

**AU/Begins at the end of season 6, and I will not be re-writing episodes to include my original characters for this particular story. I may do this upon request as a one-shot or shortfic side project, though. But only if you ask nice enough. Anyway, on with the show...**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters, they are the property of Eric Kripke and the CW network. However, there are certain characters and settings that are of my own creation. **

_This is for my Drenny doll, without whom my ass might never have bothered writing this. Thanks for all the help, babes!_

**OneRepublic :: 'Secrets'**

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_**Chapter 1**_

"Dammit," Sam Winchester hissed, shutting his laptop with a _slap _and shoving it into the bag at his feet. His older brother took his eyes off the road ahead to look over at him.

"What the hell's your problem?" Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Sam rolled his eyes and glared at him. "Battery's dead. Again."

"Cry about it, why don't ya."

"Dean," Sam growled, turning in his seat to look at his brother. "We need to stop. Seriously. We've been driving for days, and haven't found a single job. We need food, fuel, and sleep. And _I_ need to charge up the laptop so we're not running around completely clueless."

Dean heaved a sigh and pulled to a stop at a red light. "You worry too much, Sammy."

"_You_ don't worry enough."

"_Au contraire, mon frère._"

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. "French? Really, Dean? Where did you learn that?"

Dean glanced over at him, scowling slightly. "What? I'm cultured!" Sam's eyebrow rose higher, and Dean rolled his eyes, his scowl deepening as the light turned green and he hit the gas. He could feel his little brother staring at him, and sighed heavily. "I heard it in a candy bar commercial."

Sam smirked. "That's what I thought. Seriously though, dude, we need to stop. There isn't much sense in driving around aimlessly—"

"Sam, lighten the fuck up, would you?" Dean said, glancing over at him with a tight frown. "You've been through hell—"

"That was more than a year ago."

"Okay, smartass. I was speaking _figuratively_—"

"Wow, Dean, that was a big word. Hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"Dammit, Sam, shut your fucking cakehole, already!" Dean half-shouted, glaring at his brother. Sam lifted his hands in surrender, muttering a rather insincere apology. Dean rolled his eyes again, turning his attention back to the road as he made a right turn. "As I was _saying_, you've been busting your ass, trying to make amends for all the shit you screwed up while your soul was down in the cage, and you deserve a break."

Sam furrowed his brow, looking over at him. "That's why you've been keeping us moving nonstop? You think I need a _break_?"

"Mostly, yeah," Dean sighed. He was starting to get one of those 'my-brother-is-a-pain-in-the-ass' headaches he'd come to know all too well over the years, and he suddenly had the urge to pull over at the next bar he saw for a shot of whiskey, or two. Or a whole damn bottle. "Besides that, you said it yourself – nothing's come up on the radar. We haven't heard squat from Bobby, Cass is AWOL…it's like a vacation. All's quiet on the home front. Kick back, relax, and enjoy it."

It was Sam's turn to roll his eyes, and he snorted derisively. "You know just as well as I do how wrong you are, Dean. 'All's quiet' usually means something's brewing, and I don't know about you, but I'd rather find _it_, before _it_ finds _us_."

As they pulled up to another red light, Dean took the opportunity to close his eyes and take a slow, deep breath, his lips pressed tightly together.

Yep. Definitely going to need some booze.

"Sam, just…chill," he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "If it'll make you quit your bitchin', we'll stop at the next motel. Alright?"

"_Thank_ you," Sam said with exaggerated relief, picking up the computer bag and moving it to the backseat so he could stretch his long legs. It didn't really make much more room, but it was better than being as cramped up as a bean in a burrito. And while we're on the topic of food, even in metaphoric context, his stomach was growling. Loudly. Looking back over at Dean, he was surprised his brother wasn't absolutely starving. Sometimes, he swore the man had a bottomless pit for a stomach. "We need food, too."

"Sam, I swear…" Dean growled, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his temple. Screw booze, he needed a baseball bat to beat his brother over the head with. Not enough to hurt him, not really. Just enough to knock him out a little. Maybe then Sam would shut the hell up. "Fine. I'll drop you off, and go find an all-night diner. _Okay_?"

Sam nodded, grinning victoriously. Leaning his head back on the seat, he closed his eyes and got as comfortable as he could, smirking when he heard the tires squeal as the light finally changed and Dean hit the gas. He'd gotten under Dean's skin, and just as it had when they were kids, that little success gave him a feeling of satisfaction.

Too bad it didn't last long this time around.

"FUCK!" Dean shouted suddenly, slamming on the brakes so hard, Sam was sent flying forward. The only thing that stopped him from being unceremoniously introduced to the dashboard was his reflexes, catching himself just in time. Flipping his hair out of his eyes, he turned to glare at his brother.

"Dean, what the hell—" He froze when he saw the look on Dean's face, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead. His brow creasing, he dropped his voice to a near whisper. "Dean?"

"Where the hell did she come from?" Dean's voice was quiet, laced with confusion and surprise.

Turning to follow his gaze, Sam's expression almost matched his brother's when he saw the young woman standing in front of the car, staring back at them. Before he could fully register her sudden appearance, or contemplate how close Dean had come to hitting her, the older Winchester opened his door and was out of the car.

_Oh, shit._

Sam scrambled out after him like the devil was on his ass.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Dean hissed as he charged towards the girl, his upper lip curled in anger. "Are you fucking _insane_?!"

"Dean," Sam said firmly, holding a hand out towards his brother, stopping him in his tracks. Dean shot him a look but he ignored it, focusing on the girl who had, apparently, very nearly become roadkill.

She was small and thin, and couldn't have been older than twenty-one, if that. Her dark hair hung limply past her shoulders, and she was almost swimming in the oversized, gray t-shirt that was visible from where she stood. What he noticed above all else, though, was a thin trickle of blood running from her nose, and her eyes, ringed in dark circles and so wide as they flicked back and forth between them, it gave her the appearance of a deer caught in headlights. Which, in a way, she was, bathed in the Impala's beams. Sam could just barely see her chin trembling, but it didn't look as if she were about to cry. No, she looked terrified.

Beyond terrified.

Sam took a step towards her, and her eyes grew impossibly wider as she stepped back, as if afraid of his intentions. He stopped, moving his hand out in front of him, trying to show he meant her no harm.

"It's alright," he said, keeping his voice calm and soft. "We're not going to hurt you—"

"To hell with that," Dean spat, and Sam sent him a glare. Dean returned the look with one of his own, jabbing a finger towards the girl, who had yet to say a word. "Dude, she came out of nowhere, I could have fucking _killed _her!"

"Shut up," Sam hissed, seeing her face go pale as she looked at his brother, taking another step backward. Turning back to the girl, he resumed his quiet attempt at comforting her. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean. We're not going to hurt you." Dean made a sound in his throat, but he ignored it, taking another small step towards the girl. She didn't step back this time, but her gaze continued to move back and forth between them, and he could tell she was struggling with the urge to turn and flee.

Something had this young woman petrified, and he had a feeling it wasn't just them, or her close encounter with the Impala's fender.

Lowering his hands slowly to his sides, Sam tilted his head, keeping his eyes on her. "Are you okay?"

She stared at him silently, as if she were searching for something in his face, but her expression didn't change in the slightest. She didn't even appear inclined to answer, and he started to wonder if she was able to speak, at all.

"Hey!" Dean said suddenly, his sharp tone making her jump. Sam could almost see her trembling as she looked at the older hunter, and when he moved closer, she flinched. "You know, I asked you a question. What the hell is your deal, jumping out in front of a moving car like that? What, do you have a death wish, or something?"

Sam rolled his eyes, ready to shove a foot up his brother's ass. "Dean, seriously! You're scaring her!"

Dean glared at him, letting out a huff of indignation. "Scaring _her_? Dude, what about _me_? I nearly shit my pants—"

"Knock it off, asshole!" Sam growled, turning back to the girl. She wasn't looking at them anymore, though, either of them, yet the terror in her face grew. Looking back over his shoulder to follow her gaze, he saw three men, dressed in sharp, black suits, walking out of a tall building.

No, not really walking.

More like marching.

It was almost eerie, the way they moved in perfect sync with one another, until they came to a stop on the thin sidewalk. One of them, the tall, balding man in the middle, looked back and forth along the street, his cronies watching him as he searched for something. A shuffling sound made Sam glance back at the girl to find her looking between the brothers and the suits. Her breathing was picking up, and he could see the spark of panic flashing in her eyes as she began to gasp audibly.

Baldy seemed to hear it, because just as the younger Winchester turned back to the men, his head snapped over in their direction and his posture stiffened even more than it already had been.

Sam and Dean could almost feel the surge of terror pouring out of the girl, and their attention was drawn back to her. She was visibly shaking now, her face almost pained as she seemed to struggle with herself for a long moment. Her small body jerked with the force of the internal battle, and her glare was angry as her eyes flicked back and forth between the brothers. She spoke, one simple word grinding out of her in a soft, but raspy and commanding voice.

"_Run_."

The Winchesters had no chance to respond, because the word was barely out of her mouth before she turned to do just what she'd suggested to them, her bare feet slapping on the pavement as she bolted away.

"STOP!" A heavy, thunderous voice boomed through the air, but the girl was gone, skirting around a corner and disappearing. The suits began their creepy march, the aura they gave off as they approached the boys something reminiscent of a horror movie killer. It was strange, the way they appeared to move slowly, yet covered so much ground so quickly, and before Sam and Dean knew it, they were jumping out of the way of the cronies, Baldy merely stepping onto the Impala's back fender and walking over the car as if it were part of the street.

Dean had no idea what was going on, but there was no way in _hell_ he was going to let that shit slide.

No one touched his baby.

"What the fuck, man?!" he shouted after the suits, ignoring his brother's hissing protests. The men ignored him, continuing on the trail of the girl, and it only served to piss him off more. "Hey, asshole! I'm talking to you!"

The creeps came to a halt at that, and one of the little guys slowly turned back to face him. Dean's jaw tensed as he started to step forward, but he didn't get far before he was suddenly on his ass, his hand clamped over his throbbing nose.

_What the hell just happened?_

He heard Sam shouting his name, and his brother was kneeling beside him suddenly, but he couldn't figure out how the guy had managed to hit him, when he was nowhere _near_ the freaks. It was just as strange to him as the fact that he wasn't actually bleeding; that sort of blow should have broken his nose. All he felt was the pain. No impact, no blood, and he could breath easily, despite the throbbing.

"Are you alright, man?" Sam was asking, and he blinked a couple of times to clear his vision.

_Oh, man...what the fuck?_

"Yeah," he finally managed to get out, the pain beginning to subside. Wiping a hand over his face, he nodded. "Yeah, Sammy. What the hell was that?"

"I think it was our next job," Sam said, and suddenly he was on his feet, dragging Dean with him.

Dean shrugged him off, glaring at him. "What the fuck, Sam?"

"Come on, we have to get her."

He quirked a brow, looking at his younger brother in irritation. He couldn't argue, though, because leaving someone in danger was not something the Winchesters did.

Not if they could possibly help it.

Sighing heavily, he nodded and hurried back to the car. Sliding behind the wheel as Sam climbed in on the other side, Dean gunned the engine and took off, the squealing of the tires echoing in the otherwise quiet night air. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam was sitting at the ready, seat belt off and his hand on the door handle, bracing himself when Dean took a sharp turn around the corner and skidded past the suits. He could just barely make out the form of the girl up ahead, and he steered in her direction, pulling alongside her.

When the Impala drew up level with her, Sam saw her head turn towards them in surprise, but her pace didn't slow.

_Good._

A moment later, the Winchester brothers jumped into action.

Dean applied pressure to the gas pedal, pulling past her just enough to give Sam room to throw the door open, and as he stomped on the brakes, he muttered a silent apology to his baby for the abuse. The girl didn't have time to react, or maybe she realized what they were planning, because she charged ahead, and when Sam's arms shot out and caught her around the waist, Dean could swear she almost seemed to jump into them. Sam dragged her into the car and across his lap, pulling the door shut the instant her feet were clear of it.

Dean slammed the car back into gear, ready to get the hell out of there, and away from the creeps that had appeared in the rearview mirror.

Only problem was, the Impala didn't seem to want to move.

The tires squealed loudly and the smell of heated rubber filled the air, but the car didn't budge, spinning out.

"What the _fuck_?!" Dean shouted in frustration, making sure the car was in gear.

"Hey!" Sam said at the same time, though his tone was very different. Dean glanced over to see the girl twisting around in his arms, soft, desperate grunts and whimpers coming from her as she turned herself so she was pressed against his little brother's chest, looking over his shoulder. Her expression was strange, pained and forcibly focused on something, and Dean's eyes moved back to the rearview mirror.

The suits had stopped, and the larger of the two sidekicks was holding a hand in their direction, his expression similar to the one on the girl's face, yet more relaxed.

Dean blinked, his foot easing off the gas slightly.

_No fucking way._

"Calm down!"

He blinked again when Sam's voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked to see the girl pressing a hand to the side of her head. Even in the dim light of the lamp posts, Dean could see her face turning red, her lips curling back in concentration. The sound of creaking metal and snapping lines vaguely registered at the same instant that a flicker of light danced off of her upper lip, and a brief thought ran through his head...

_...her nose is bleeding again..._

...as he turned his eyes back to the mirror again, just in time to see a large, heavy sign tumble from the front of a building, just above the thugs.

The men reacted instantly, but while Thing One and Thing Two managed to jump to safety, Baldy wasn't so lucky.

The streets of Breyton, Vermont had their human pancake, after all.

If that thing _was_ human. The boys weren't keen on sticking around long enough to find out in person. It was situations like this when Dean knew Sam was right: research is an asset. They had no idea what they were up against, but it was pretty obvious that it was likely to be something right up their alley. First things first, though, they needed to get the girl out of there, and see what they could find out from her.

The car lurched forward as the cronies fussed over their leader, and Dean wasted no time. He wanted to put as much distance between them and the suited freaks as he possibly could.

"Dean," Sam said, his voice tinged with panic, and he looked over to find his brother cradling the girl against him with one arm, his other hand pressed against the side of her face to keep her head still. She'd gone lifeless, her eyes rolled back behind slitted lids, and her skin was almost ghost-like beneath the thick stream of blood flowing over her lips and chin, staining the front of Sam's shirt. "She's losing too much blood, we need to stop it!"

"Shit," Dean muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. He'd never seen a nose bleed so heavily, and a pit formed in his stomach.

This was more than just a simple nosebleed.

As the lights of the town up ahead drew closer, he saw the familiar blue "H" of a hospital sign, and cursed under his breath as he flipped on the turn signal and steered towards it.

The girl was fucked up. And they needed to fix her, before they could find out why.

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_**Please leave a review, let me know what you think. Stick around. **_

_**It's gonna be a wild ride.**_

**|7|4|8|3|7|**


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